Maybe Someday (Maybe, #1)(92)

He narrows his eyes. “Listen, Syd. I don’t mean to be rude, but all this moping around for the past few months has caused you to put on a little weight. Your ass looks huge in those jeans. The blue dress may be able to hide a little of that, so go put it on, or I might be too embarrassed to go out with you.”

I suddenly feel like slapping him again, but I know he’s just got a peculiar sense of humor. I also know he might have a completely different reason for why he wants me to wear this dress and I’m trying not to let myself think it has anything to do with Ridge, but pretty much every situation I’m in somehow makes me think about Ridge. It’s nothing new. But Warren is a guy who seems to put his foot in his mouth a lot, and I’m a girl, so I still wonder if his sarcastic remark has any truth to it. I have been replacing the void Ridge left in my life with food. I look down at my stomach and pat it, then look back up at Warren. “You’re an *.”

He nods. “I know.”

The innocent smile on his face makes me instantly forgive any crudeness behind his joke. I change into the blue dress, but I am so cock-blocking him tonight. Jerk.

? ? ?

“Wow. This is . . . different,” I say, taking in my surroundings. It’s nothing like the clubs Warren usually likes to go to. This one is a lot smaller, without even much of a dance floor. There’s an empty stage along one wall, but there’s no one performing tonight. The jukebox is playing, and several people are scattered around at tables, talking quietly among themselves. Warren chooses a table toward the middle of the room.

“You’re a cheap date,” I say. “You didn’t even feed me.”

He laughs. “I’ll buy you a burger on the way home.”

Warren pulls out his phone and begins texting someone, so I look around for a while. It’s kind of cozy. It’s also kind of weird that Warren brought me here. But I’m thinking he doesn’t have any evil intentions, because he’s not even paying attention to me.

His attention is on his phone, and he keeps glancing at the door. I don’t understand why he wanted to come out tonight, and I especially don’t understand why he chose this place.

“You’re actually the one who sucks,” I say. “Stop ignoring me.”

He responds without even looking up at me. “You aren’t talking, so technically, I’m not ignoring you.”

I’m curious now. He’s not being himself, the way he’s so distracted. “What’s up with you, Warren?”

As soon as I ask the question, he looks up from his phone and smiles over my shoulder, then stands. “You’re late,” he says to someone behind me. I look to see Bridgette walking toward us.

“Screw you, Warren,” she says to him with a small smile. He wraps his arms around her, and they kiss for several uncomfortable seconds. I reach up and tap him on the arm when I’m convinced that neither of them can breathe. He pulls away from Bridgette, winks at her, and slides out his chair for her.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he says to Bridgette. He points at me. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He says it as if it’s a command, and it irritates me even more because he’s being really rude tonight. I turn and face Bridgette once he’s left the table. “Warren said you were working all weekend,” I say.

She shrugs. “Yeah, well, he probably told you that because of the elaborate scheme he has planned for tonight. He made me come so you wouldn’t leave when you found out about it. Oh, and I’m not supposed to tell you any of that, so if he comes back, play dumb.”

My heart rate escalates. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

She shakes her head and raises her arm in the air, calling over a waiter. “I wish I was kidding. I had to switch shifts to be here, and now I have to work a double tomorrow.”

I drop my head into my hands, regretting the fact that I let Warren talk me into anything. Just when I’m reaching for my purse to leave, he walks out onto the empty stage.

“Oh, God,” I groan. “What the hell is he doing?” My stomach is in knots. I have no idea what he has planned, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.

He taps on the microphone, then adjusts the height of it. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight. Not that any of you are here for this particular event, since it’s a surprise, but I feel the need to thank you anyway.”

He adjusts the microphone once more, then finds our table in the crowd and waves. “I want to apologize to you, Syd, because I feel really bad for lying to you. You haven’t gained weight, and your ass looked great in those jeans, but you really needed to wear that dress tonight. Also, you don’t suck. I lied about that, too.”

Several people in the crowd laugh, but I just groan and bury my face in my hands, peeking through my fingers at him up on the stage.

“All right, let’s get on with it, shall we? We have a few new songs for you tonight. Unfortunately, the whole band couldn’t be here, because”—he looks to his left at the small width of the stage, then to his right—“well, I don’t think they all could have fit. So I’d like to present to you a small portion of the band Sounds of Cedar.”

My heart falls to the floor. I close my eyes when the crowd begins to clap.

Please, let it be Ridge.

Please, don’t let it be Ridge.